


Cloaked in Love

by merry_amelie



Series: Household Romance [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-11
Updated: 2005-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-12 20:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4494270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Jedi cloak can be revealing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cloaked in Love

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> To Alex and Ula, my friends and betas extraordinaire

Obi-Wan was startled from a deep sleep by the blare of an alarm at 0300. This was the last night of his week of leave time with Qui-Gon before he was due back for a tour of duty on the Outer Rim.

He burst out of his old Padawan room into the common room, almost barreling into his former Master. Qui-Gon looked sheepish as he gingerly plucked the charred remains of a teakettle from his miniature meditation fountain, and used the Force to deactivate the alarm.

"Oh, Qui," Obi-Wan sighed. "Not another kettle."

Qui-Gon ducked his head charmingly, then shot Obi-Wan an appraising glance. "Interesting choice of bathrobe, Obi," he said, fingering the coarse texture of one of his own old cloaks. All sorts of intriguing explanations for Obi-Wan's attire tickled his imagination. His robe on Obi-Wan was the stuff of dreams for a poor, besotted Jedi Master.

It was Obi-Wan's turn to squirm under the penetrating look in those blue eyes. Could Qui-Gon guess why he was wearing it? "You use my old closet as a dumping ground," Obi-Wan retorted, somewhat desperately.

"So I do," said Qui-Gon. He touched the cowl again. "I must've requisitioned this while you were still in creche."

Obi-Wan smiled. Qui-Gon didn't know the meaning of 'recycler chute'. "Want some company?"

"I'd love some. Just let me put on the spare kettle."

"Let's wait in the kitchen, shall we?" Obi-Wan said dryly.

"Good idea," Qui-Gon answered, crinkles quick to form around his blue eyes.

Settled at the little table, Qui-Gon couldn't resist a bit more teasing. "That was quite some mastery of the Force you showed, keeping my cloak out of your way when you ran in." The sight of Obi-Wan in his robe had stirred a primitive satisfaction within him. 

"I've had plenty of practice with voluminous cloaks. Not exactly the ideal outfit for a fight." Obi-Wan's chuckle was echoed by Qui-Gon's.

"I've been grousing about that to Mace for years. Field operatives should have the option of only tunics and leggings as their uniform."

"Perfectly sensible, Qui-Gon. Who knows? It might even happen." Another shared chuckle brightened the room.

"You know, I wore this when we took our Master/Padawan vows." Qui-Gon reached across the table to brush Obi-Wan's sleeve with his left hand.

Obi-Wan shivered; Qui-Gon had saved the robe for a reason. He too had kept his clothing from that day. "I should have known. There's still a trace of the wesera candle you lit in celebration." He sniffed the fabric Qui-Gon's fingers had just touched, unable to resist, though the fragrance was in his pores after sleeping in the cloak for a week. The faintest hint of the aromatic spice entwined with Qui-Gon's unique scent was still present within its recesses. Luckily, Qui-Gon had risen to get another cup from the shelf, and didn't notice Obi-Wan's brief flush at the sense memory.

Qui-Gon's thumb skimmed over the ceramic. "That was one of the happiest days of my life." He gazed at the brown coarsecloth covering his Obi-Wan. "I never thought to see this on you." He was disconcerted to hear that a certain huskiness had roughened his voice, unbidden.

"Well, technically, I've had it around me before, at least partly." Obi-Wan patted the material reverentially. "All the times you've sheltered me within its folds through the years. I'm surprised it hasn't picked up my scent."

"Hasn't it?" Qui-Gon's gaze turned speculative as he impulsively leaned over the table to breathe in the aroma around the neckline. A whiff of their combined essence, one he was used to inhaling in much more concentrated form in the salle, lingered in the nubby weave.

Never had Qui-Gon's lessons in breath control rescued Obi-Wan as they did then. Qui-Gon's forehead was a bare inch from his hungry lips, his hair spread out like a fringe over the robe, teasing Obi-Wan, tempting him.

Qui-Gon slowly shifted his gaze from the cloak to Obi-Wan's lips, as if he could tell what Obi-Wan ached to do with them. "I smell us," he said, breath warm over Obi-Wan's mouth and chin. "Together."

If not for Qui-Gon's breath drawn into his lungs, Obi-Wan would not have had enough air to sustain him, and 'drowning in his eyes' took on a whole new meaning. Qui-Gon's face was the only thing he could see, the only thing he wanted to see. "Together," Obi-Wan said softly.

The love in Obi-Wan's eyes drew Qui-Gon into them, and his mouth to Obi-Wan's. Though Knighthood had hardened Obi-Wan, his lips retained their youthful softness as they caressed Qui-Gon's. "Love," he breathed between kisses.

"Ahhhh." Obi-Wan's every sense was drinking in each kiss. "I love you."

"I love you." Qui-Gon kept kissing him even as he walked around the table to take Obi-Wan in his arms. The robe fell open when Obi-Wan moved to embrace him, giving Qui-Gon a glimpse of muscled chest, lean stomach, the barest hint of shadowed thigh. Blue eyes grew bluer. Obi-Wan wore nothing under Qui-Gon's cloak.

Surely he hadn't taken the time to put it on with the alarm sounding, which meant that the sleeping Obi-Wan's fair skin had been pressed against the length of Qui-Gon's robe.

"You --" Qui-Gon swallowed and tried again, voice hoarser than when he'd caught the Sullustan Flu. "You wear that to bed?" His grip on Obi-Wan's shoulders tightened convulsively.

"Yes." A whispered exhalation into Qui-Gon's ear.

"You won't tonight," Qui-Gon growled, propelling a sultry Obi-Wan towards the Master bedroom. Just when Qui-Gon began to disrobe Obi-Wan, the shrill cry of the alarm sounded once more. As he ran in to douse the kettle, Qui-Gon sent a paean of thanks into the Force for his absent-mindedness.


End file.
